


The World According To Christoph Metzelder, part II

by ninamalfoy



Series: The World According To Christoph Metzelder [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-19
Updated: 2010-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninamalfoy/pseuds/ninamalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They will always be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World According To Christoph Metzelder, part II

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on LJ on August 17th, 2006.
> 
> Not true in the least bit. I'm just borrowing their public persona to play.

When Basti tells him that he's been on the phone with Fabe after clicking his cell shut, Metze just nods. As if he didn't hear Fabe's cheery, upbeat voice himself, sitting next to Basti on the couch, the bottle of Dortmunder balancing between his knees. Basti's laid out next to him, the leg with the injured knee stretched out, foot resting on a stool that Tina had put there before Metze could jump up and take it from her - pregnant women shouldn't exercise too much, but Tina had just laughed.

"I would go crazy with both of you fretting over me - thank God Basti is now sort of handicapped, so that I can at least get something done," she had said, smiling and ruffling through Basti's hair, eliciting an indignant "Hey!" from her partner. "You both enjoy the match, I'll go lie down with a nice book - I've still got a heap to read from my birthday, and I've got to make good use of the remaining time until the baby's there," she said before turning around to walk into the hall to their bedroom.

Basti had chuckled and shaken his head, but didn't say anything. Metze didn't, either, but he had raised his bottle and Basti had clicked his glass with apple spritzer against it. And then the cell had rung.

Metze knows that Fabe's got more in common with Basti now than himself, that the shared joy and appreciation of fatherhood is what strengthens their bond, and he's only got the bonus of being Basti's teammate and roommate, and the one that Basti hangs out with mostly - but what if Fabe were to play at Dortmund, too, instead of Mainz?

Such questions are useless and yet, he can't help wondering. What if he and Basti had never met, what if Basti had never met Tina - no, unthinkable. He's got to be satisfied with what he's got now, and as Basti nudges him, "hey, the match's kicking off, Metze!", he nods and concentrates on the TV screen.

But he can't really follow the match, can't when Basti's that close, their thighs almost touching - just _almost_, but Metze recalls times not so long ago when they'd just entangle them, legs slung over each other, hands resting on bare skin, fingers circling and stroking, and - but then Basti's nudging him again, "man, are you out of it today," and he shrugs, "yeah, maybe," but smiles at his best friend, and then they're caught up in cheering for Schnix' goal, Basti splashing a bit of his apple spritzer on his jeans, cursing under his breath and Metze says, "Parkinson's setting in early with you," and gets rewarded by Basti sticking out his tongue at him - and it's good. Not perfect, but good all the same.

After yelling themselves hoarse at Klose's two subsequent goals, shaking their heads at the Swedes' bad play - despite several key players missing, they should've been able to play decent football, but no, and Metze had to wince repeatedly at the capital blunders of the no. 4 defender, Hansson or something - and joking about their teammates out on the pitch, with Basti wondering when Torsten'll run up in dreads or in a Camoranesi hairdo and teasing Metze about spreading the beard fashion in the team, considering Arne and Manu are apparently set on emulating him, it's back to their old friendship standard, as if _it_ had never happened.

Driving home in his Merc, Metze decides that it is worth it after all. As long as they still have this, their uncomplicated companionship, chuckling at the same things, communicating with each other just with a look, making the other one roll his eyes or smile, depending on it, and the easy body contact - Basti never shied away from him since then, instead, he still hugged Metze, still ruffled his hair or swatted his ass in the team showers.

It just isn't done with the accompanying whispered words into his ears anymore (though there have been whispers, but of an altogether different matter), not with the secret winks or that certain timbre in his words.

And Metze would be a liar if he didn't miss it - but he _can_ live without it.

He just has to learn to stand the ache.


End file.
